The Face of a Saviour
by LJ1983
Summary: A small ficlet, set days after Clark made his first in-the-flesh debut to the world. But the question as to who he truly is has got people wondering. Just who exactly is he? One Shot.


_Disclaimer__ - I do not own Smallville. Rated T to be safe._

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><p><em>~ Based upon the series finale ~<em>

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><p><strong>The Face of a Saviour<strong>

It had been a considerable number of days since the mysterious man in the red cape and tight blue suit had made his airborne debut in the flesh; to merge from the shadows of his vigilante days as the faceless Blur to inspire the people of the world, to give them hope - for something to believe in, just when the way of life was being questioned and they were all headed for the eternal void of darkness under the faceless evil God, Darkseid; a creature they were thankfully blissful ignorant about.

But now, all had conversed into the opposite of what the world had been heading for; the darkness had been replaced by light, with the arrival of this considerable being in red and blue.

The man was a picture of virtue and absolute justice, and he stood tall and proud in the captured images taken by nifty photographers lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the newest and most powerful Superhero as he stood on rooftops before the adoring crowds of the people, lingering for a few brief seconds before speeding off in his usual red-blue blur - now splashed across every newspaper in the world for everyone to see.

On his face, he wore a determined and righteous smile; his features were rugged and handsome, and his ebony black hair was oiled and slicked back severely, with a small kiss curl dominating the center of his forehead. His frost blue eyes there held no malice or contempt, no deceit. They were as pure and kind as an angel's. He was tall, that was for certain, with his height exceeding over six feet, though in no way was he angular, gaunt or awkwardly lanky . Oh no.

His body was like that of a Greek God; the defined muscles were evident beneath his tight fitting blue latex uniform, reducing certain members of the opposite sex to jelly who would swoon at the sight of him. Across his chest was proudly spread the symbol he had been burning into walls as the Blur for years - in a sort of calling card. It somehow resembled the letter 'S' if one was to concentrate on the red part of the pattern, but the yellow part indicated that this was maybe an intricate emblem - perhaps a family crest?

Whatever it was or meant, the people of the world had come to recognize this as a symbol for hope and trust, for something to finally believe in a world filled with violence and corruption. He was clearly a figure of moral code and conduct, and seemingly instilled with a sense of idealism. And he wore that seeming 'S' shield with pride.

Though, if there was one lingering question on the lips of each member of the human race, then it would have been; Who exactly is he?

For a small amount of years now, this very man - powerful, fast and strong beyond all human imagining - had been stalking the depraved city of Metropolis, seeking out the sinned, the dangerous, the callous, the meteor-infected, the corrupted - bringing them to justice anonymously, and caring for those in need, saving them from the clear and present dangers which were a regular feature in this dark city. His actions had been somewhat viewed as being vigilante justice, which had angered the law enforcement of the city, and other figures of authority. His faceless appearances did nothing to help matters either, and continued to convince those of higher authority that he was a threat, and a criminal - no better than the scum he caught.

But the people of Metropolis, and even those around the world, believed in him, despite his lack of face. Even after the onslaught of Darkseid's terrible hold on them.

And now, he was here, revealed to the world and no longer a streaky, zipping, faster than light blur in which human eyes could not register. People had now looked upon his rugged, square-jawed face; a face of trust and hope.

The face of a_ Saviour._

However, that one question as to the identity of this Saviour still lingered.

Was he meteor-infected perhaps, having acquired his God-like abilities from the glowing, green rocks which had twice destroyed the Mid-Western town of Smallville in a fatal and disastrous meteor shower? Was he a mutant? Was he simply born this way? Was he even human?

Was he indeed a visitor from another Planet?

Dare they admit it, was he an alien entity?

No matter; human or alien, he was a force for good, and nothing was going to invalidate the heroic good deeds he had carried out on behalf of the poverty stricken world.

The Daily Planet though, a towering building which stood focally in the city of Metropolis - the newspaper that had stood for decades and had seen two world wars, had vowed to discover the true identity of this strange new Saviour, whatever it took. Though, he had since disappeared since that fateful day, and no one had seen him since; but only two people, out of only a handful, in the heart of the Daily Planet knew of his whereabouts.

A meek-looking, tall, gaunt and slouch-shouldered young man timidly attempted to cut his way through the excited, bustling crowds of the newsroom of the Planet. As he stuttered his heartfelt apologies to those he had rather clumsily stumbled into and adjusted his thick, dark glasses, he couldn't help but muster a small and sneaky smile - for he knew the Saviour was nearby, and walking amongst them, observing them at close proximity.

Looking up, the young bespectacled reporter caught a glimpse of the only one within those walls to know also - and his smile grew wider as he gazed to her through the mangle of rushing people.

Lois Lane hacked her way through the sea of bodies and neared Clark Kent with intent. As she grew closer, she took his arm and led him away from the maddening crowd. Leaning up, Lois managed to whisper attentively into her fiance's ear; "Are you ready for the one on one interview of your life, Smallville?"

Clark's lips curved into a determined smile, a rather familiar smile that others had failed to notice. "I've been ready since the moment I put on the suit, and saved the world from Darkseid." He murmured back, taking her into his strong and capable arms and imprisoning her in the circle of them. "It's time the world found out the real story behind the Red-Blue Blur." He added.

"Good." Lois replied, slapping Clark once in the chest with a rolled up newspaper, to which Clark took and unfolded. "Let's say, eight o' clock, the rooftops of the Planet - including the suit." The fearless investigated reporter winked slyly at her fiance in disguise before turning on her heel, then she added; "Don't be late."

As he watched her retreat back into the crowds of the bustling reporters, Clark's attention then was fixed upon the bold headline across the newest addition of the newspaper, and it screamed;

**LOIS LANE TO INTERVIEW THE BLUR - TONIGHT!**

Oh yes; after tonight, he would no longer would he be an anonymous faceless blur...and he could not wait.

~ The End ~


End file.
